I was late for my Yoga Teacher Training class last Friday
night.
Ugh.
Our classes begin on Thursday and Friday evenings at 6:30
p.m. – except for sometimes on Friday we start at 6:15 p.m. The Friday-night-start-time
hasn’t been consistent, and well, you could say I botched it last Friday night.
I was pressed for time on Friday and I knew I was cutting it close – I thought class began at 6:30 p.m. and I walked in the door at 6:28. “Plenty of time,” I was thinking, as the teacher rarely starts right on time. Imagine my horror/disappointment/confusion when I stepped inside the yoga studio and the entire lobby was quiet and empty. Where were all of my classmates?
Turns out, they were already behind the closed glass door, sitting
with the lights off, 15 minutes into a guided meditation.
What the…?!?!
I missed the actual start time.
Now, I pride myself in being punctual, especially for yoga classes. Yoga classes typically begin with a
warm up and centering session – the room is quiet as the students prepare for
their yoga practice. Arriving late means disruption to the class and I think it’s
disrespectful to the teacher. That’s just how I feel about it. I missed the actual start time.
And I don’t care how
quiet you think you can be, when you tiptoe into a silent yoga room even your
bare feet on the wood floor make noise. {squish-squish-squish} Rolling out
your sticky mat as gently as possible... {chiiiiiicccckkk-flop} Lowering your
keys as softly to the floor as you can... {CLINK-CLANK!}
Latecomers to yoga classes have always annoyed me just a
little, and now, sitting outside of my yoga teacher training classroom while
all of my classmates enjoyed a delicious round of pranayama on the inside…I was
that girl. I was Late Girl. The
inconsiderate, can’t-be-quiet, Late Girl.
I sat out in the lobby for a while, feeling embarrassed and
ashamed and beating myself up for being late. I decided I would wait until the
lights came on before entering the classroom so there I sat. Waiting. And thinking.
It wasn’t long before one of my classmates slipped out through
the door and headed down the hall to the ladies room. “Yes!” I thought. This
would be my opportunity to slip back in with her and go semi-unnoticed.
So that’s what I did.
Just inside the door I gently sat my book bag down and
decided I’d wait until the lights came on to roll out my mat – I was pleased
that my entrance had seemed super quiet! “I’ll
just sit right here on the floor for now,” I thought. Super quiet. But lowering
myself to the floor, the joints of my body revealed me - knees and ankles and
hip joints popping all the way down. {POP!!! POP!!! POP!!!} ~sigh~
Breathe, Deb, breathe!!! Slow inhales…let it go…Late Girl…breathe…let
it go…you’re in…it’s over...Late Girl…breathe…
Later, during a break, I apologized to the student next to
me for being late. “That’s ok,” she said sweetly, and then she told me she had
been pressed for time herself as her little girl was crying when she left her
with the babysitter.
Well, hello lesson.
Late Girl is every single one of us. Late Girl makes
mistakes about the class start time, or she has to spend an extra minute giving
her 2-year old hugs, or there’s car trouble or kid trouble or traffic to battle.
Late Girl isn’t always late on purpose – who would want to do that on purpose?
Late Girl is every one of us, at any given time, maneuvering through time and
space on planet earth – doing our best to piece it all together.
Dear Late Girl, I’m
sorry for all the times I’ve felt exasperated at your tardiness. I’m sorry for
judging you and labeling you as “Late Girl.” You probably need that yoga class more
than anyone else already on their mats, waiting in silence for you to settle
in. You still can’t unroll a sticky mat in complete silence, but you can take a
deep breath and let it go. Receive and enjoy your practice… Namaste. xo
♥